


One Last Night of Dreams

by SoapboxingGeek



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Royalty, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:49:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2397341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoapboxingGeek/pseuds/SoapboxingGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa reflects back on the night when she was informed of her parents' death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Night of Dreams

**ONE LAST NIGHT OF DREAMS**

They knocked on my bedroom door in the middle of the night.

I sat up in bed, unwilling to open the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me, Your Majesty," my majordomo replied.

I was confused by the sudden change in address. I was not "Your Majesty." Not yet.

"There is something I need to discuss with you, Majesty. May I come in?"

I gripped my blanket reflexively, and felt it harden in my hands.

"I am not presentable, Anderson." I choked out. "Whatever you need to tell me can be told from the hallway."

Anderson sighed. "Yes, Your Majesty." He paused. "I regret to inform you that we have received correspondence from the Kingdom of Corona. The King and Queen never arrived for the wedding."

My entire blanket became a sheet of ice.

"As you will not come of age for another three years, Majesty, we will need to arrange for a regent," he continued. "You will also need to plan a state funeral, and make arrangements for your council and make appropriate decisions for castle staff, such as selecting cooks, maids, and Princess Anna's tutors."

The ceiling began to grow icicles as tiny snowflakes dotted my bedroom curtains. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. I wasn't ready. I hadn't learned to control it yet. How could I be Queen when I was still like  _this_?

"Queen Elsa?" Anderson prompted.

"The castle staff can stay the same," I spat out, disliking being pressured. "And the decisions about a regent and a funeral can wait until dawn."

He sighed again. "As you wish, Your Majesty. Do you wish me to inform Princess Anna at this time?"

I paused, looking out the window. The aurora borealis was glimmering, creating an ethereal light on my carpeted floor. There would be a good chance she would be awake right now, but there was an equally good chance that she would be fast asleep.

I wanted her to have at least one more restful night. I wanted her to have one last night of happy dreams.

I was so caught up in grief and panic that I didn't notice that my blanket thawed from beneath my gripping hands.

"No, Anderson. Let her sleep for now. I appreciate you coming to inform me. You're dismissed. Go to your rest now," I said softly, wishing to convey to him that I bore him no ill will for bringing me this news.

"Goodnight, Queen Elsa." Anderson said, and I listened to him walk away.

Allowed true solitude again, I stopped trying to hold in my emotions.

My father would see me as a failure, I thought. Well, he was a failure for leaving us behind.

"You'll be fine," he said. Ha! Yes, we were fine, all right. One daughter had a crippling, dangerous curse, and the other daughter was a desperately lonely teenager who thought her sister didn't love her anymore.

"Conceal, don't feel," he would repeat to me. How could I not feel, knowing that I would never see my parents again?

The snowflakes began to get thicker.

"I'll never see them again," the thought repeated in my mind. "I'll never see them again and we are alone."

The fibers on my carpeted floor began to crystallize into swirling, intricate shapes. I loved its beauty and I hated its power.

"I'll never see them again and we are alone and I miss her and I wish I could talk to her but we are alone."

I tore out of bed and ran over to my wardrobe. I was doing myself no good staying in bed grieving. I had to stop grieving. I had decisions to make. I could not grieve and make decisions. I could not grieve.

I pulled on my conservative black dress. I felt less when I wore this. It concealed my body, so it concealed my feelings. I bound my hair in the tightest, most strict bun I could form in my exhausted state.

I moved to open the chest of drawers that were containing my gloves, and moved to slide one of the drawers out.

The brass handle, an heirloom that was hundreds of years old, shattered in my hands.

I fell backwards in shock. That had never happened before. How much more destructive could my power be? How destructive could grief be?

I wanted to feel. Oh god, how I wanted to feel. And how I hated him for stifling me like this. But no, I couldn't think like that. That wasn't being a good girl.

Shaking with suppressed terror, I crawled over to the broken drawer and gingerly pulled a pair of gloves out. I practically shoved them on with relief. At least now my touch could not destroy.

I lay on the floor, clinging to myself and muttering, "I have to be a good girl and I'll never see them again. I have to be a good girl but I'll never see them again. I want to see Anna but I have to be a good girl and not talk to her anymore. A good girl doesn't put her family in danger. I have to be a good girl."

And so I repeated this to myself, over and over, as a storm began to blow.

Hours passed without me realizing it. Anderson knocked on my door again, reminding me that I had decisions to make. The morning sunrise blinking through my window blinded me. I sat up abruptly. There was snow everywhere. I couldn't open the door.

"I leave Arendelle in your hands," I said in my most authoritative voice. "I have my full confidence in you. You're my regent."

Anderson was taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Are you sure, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, I am sure. And please inform the staff that I will not be attending the funeral."

Anderson spluttered in surprise. "But that would be an outrage, Majesty!"

"I wish to grieve privately. Surely the people can grant me that."

"You do everything privately," Anderson muttered under his breath. He said with a sigh, "As you wish, Your Majesty." He walked away, and I was granted more time before I would have to be Queen.

I walked over to my locked bedroom door. I touched it briefly, tracing my fingers along the intricate designs that were painted when Anna was a baby. I had asked that the door be decorated in celebration of my new baby sister. I insisted to our mother that she and I should share a room. I wouldn't mind her crying, I assured her.

Three years later, I wouldn't hear her crying anymore. Our eyes would only meet as I passed by her to shut her out of my life. I didn't want to. Oh god, I didn't want to. She would knock on the door. Her little voice would ask me why I didn't love her anymore. She would ask me when we would be able to play again. I couldn't answer her, so I just stayed silent. As my heart cracked, so did the ice on the windows.

I sat down with my back against the bedroom door. The powdery snow clung to the thick material of my black dress.

Eventually, she stopped knocking on my door. Eventually, it was her who looked away first when our eyes met. Eventually, Anna grew into a beautiful young woman that I didn't know anymore. And all we had left was each other.

I cried for the first time since I was small. The tears were water on my cheeks, but turned into perfect crystals when they dropped to the floor.

I could not repair the rift that came between us. It would require confessions, apologies, a fundamental shift in Anna's understanding. Something like that, something that would reveal those kind of raw emotions, could put her in danger. I would not put her in danger just because I missed her.

But it was strange. I missed her far more than I missed my parents. No matter how I tried to justify it to myself, no matter how hard I tried to be a good girl, the fact remained that I was in emotional limbo. The King's death meant that I was Queen, and I no longer had the freedom I "enjoyed" as Princess. But the King's death meant that I was freed in a different way. Or so I would recognize later.

The more I thought about Anna, the less I took in about my surroundings. Locked in my memories was the truth that every time I thought of Anna, purely of Anna and what she meant to me, the snow melted a little.

There was a part of me that wanted to burst out of my bedroom door, turn the entire castle into ice, and stop hiding myself at last. But the good girl always reminded me that I could not do that.

Because it would put Anna in danger.

I miss her and I love her.

I love her because I miss her.

I hope that she is dreaming still.


End file.
